Come on, you conniving bastard!"
Robert Baratheon's roar cut through the biting wind.
There was no fear in his voice, only a full-blown rage from being provoked and an almost fanatical self-confidence.
He was a descendant of true dragons, a successor of the dragon race; how could he possibly fear these lowly wights!
Just as everyone decided to follow Robert into battle, a black tide of wights suddenly surged, engulfing them.
"Your Majesty, retreat!"
A noble from the Stormlands shrieked.
"Retreat?"
Robert Baratheon burst into maniacal laughter.
"I am Robert Baratheon, master of the iron throne, conqueror of the Seven Kingdoms! How could I retreat before these demons and monsters!"
He firmly believed that his strength, his warhammer, was enough to crush all enemies in the world, no matter where they came from.
Suddenly, an elegant and swift white figure appeared before him.
"An Other!"
Robert Baratheon's heart jolted.
Just as Robert's warhammer smashed a wight into pieces, sending bone fragments and ice shards flying, an ice crystal spear, carrying the low moan of death, slashed down. Robert raised his hammer to block.
"Clang—!"
Mortal steel was like rotten wood before them, shattering upon impact.
Robert Baratheon's eyes widened in disbelief.
This was the first time he had felt a power beyond his comprehension, but his pride would not allow him to retreat.
The next moment, a hint of mockery seemed to flit across the Other's pale, translucent face.
At this very instant, the sky changed color.
The pitch-black night sky was torn open, and a torrent of flame, as dazzling as molten gold and as scorching as the blazing sun, poured down, precisely engulfing the Other in front of Robert.
The Other's body exploded, like a thousand mirrors shattering simultaneously, transforming into a pervasive, intensely cold ice dust that, illuminated by the surrounding Dragonflame, refracted a brief yet hauntingly beautiful rainbow.
A wave of heat washed over them, dispelling the bone-chilling cold.
Robert looked up and saw a small figure soaring across the sky—it was the Hatchling Dragon he, Robert Baratheon, had hatched!
He stood between the Dragonflame and the wight's remains, panting heavily, white vapor steaming from him.
Looking at the spot where the Other had vanished, he burst into laughter, drowning out all the clamor of the battlefield.
"Do you see it? Do you see it!"
"What damn Other, what Long Night—they are all trash before me, Robert Baratheon!"
Robert Baratheon's eyes were wide, his face filled with joy.
What if they were undead? They would still be burned to death by his Dragonflame!
An opportunity!
Looking at the motionless Night King in the distance, a triumphant smile appeared on Robert Baratheon's face.
"There is only one King in this world, the one true King of the Seven Kingdoms!"
He picked up a dropped longsword from the ground and, treading the path cleared by the Dragonflame, charged towards the slightly hesitant Night King.
This time, he held nothing back; all his strength was concentrated in this single sword strike.
The wind, carrying the lingering warmth of the Dragonflame and all of Robert's fury, cut a burning arc.
At this moment, Robert's prestige, like the still-hot longsword in his hand, shone brilliantly and was peerless.
Facing Robert Baratheon's personal assassination attempt, the Night King's face, however, held only a hint of playful mockery, as if he were watching an ant's struggle.
The next moment, he slowly raised two fingers and firmly clamped down on the longsword Robert Baratheon had swung.
"Crack—!"
The battle sword let out a crisp, mournful cry.
It shattered, breaking into countless pieces like a fallen ice shard.
Robert Baratheon's smile instantly froze on his face.
From beginning to end, the Night King, his great enemy, had not even looked at him directly.
His gaze had been fixed on the distant sky the entire time.
Robert Baratheon was on the verge of collapse.
What kind of monster was this, daring to underestimate him so much!
"Where are you looking, you fool!"
He was furious and shouted, "Dragonflame!"
However, time seemed to freeze at that moment.
The spear tore through the air, and the entire world seemed to emit a shattered wail.
The next second was a brutal clash of ice and fire, the ultimate collision of life and annihilation.
The spear impaled the Hatchling Dragon!
People could clearly hear the thunderous sound of dragon bones breaking, like a collapsing iceberg.
The Hatchling Dragon's mournful cry abruptly ceased.
Its body lingered in the air for only a moment, then it no longer soared, but began to plummet like a shot-down star.
Finally, under Robert Baratheon's almost despairing gaze, it crashed heavily onto the frozen lake, sending countless ice crystal fragments scattering.
"Impossible, absolutely impossible!"
Robert Baratheon's mouth was open wide enough to fit an entire egg.
"Dragons are invincible, how could it die!"
Robert Baratheon was on the verge of collapse.
But whether he admitted it or not, his mental link with the Hatchling Dragon had indeed vanished.
At this moment, Robert Baratheon's face suddenly turned ashen.
In the instant Robert was stunned, something even more despairing occurred.
The Night King, standing beside him, sneered and raised both hands high.
Instantly, all the corpses, centered around the Night King, ignited with blue eyes and rose again.
The next moment, when the dragon corpse raised its head again, ice-blue patterns, originating from the wound, spread wildly across the dragon's body like vines of death. Wherever they passed, the golden scales lost their luster, and flesh turned to solid ice.
Burning in its eye sockets were now the same eerie blue ice flames as the Night King's.
Robert Baratheon was on the verge of collapse.
In the moment of his hesitation, countless fallen wights had already separated the Night King and Robert.
And the Night King had already mounted the ice dragon's back.
"Fly!"
The Night King looked down at the stunned Robert below, muttering contemptuously.
The next moment, the ice dragon raised its head, spreading its wings, ready to soar.
"No, this world shouldn't be like this."
"The dragon is mine, mine!"
Robert Baratheon's eyes were wide, his Dao Heart on the verge of shattering.
His own Hatchling Dragon, which he hadn't even had a chance to ride, was now being mounted by the Night King before everyone's eyes!
"No!"
At this moment, Robert Baratheon was already in tears.
How could he still resemble a king?
He was practically a cripple who had lost his dearest loved ones and was forced to wear a cuckold's hat!
"Give me back my dragon!"
Suddenly, Robert Baratheon found courage from somewhere.
He grabbed a warhammer from the ground and charged towards the Night King, who was about to take flight.
"Robert, don't be foolish!"
Ned Stark yelled frantically from amidst the wight horde.
His Ice sword was almost blunted from hacking, yet the surrounding wights seemed endless!
"Bang!"
Under everyone's gaze, the Hatchling Dragon flicked its tail.
Robert Baratheon, man and hammer, was directly sent flying, crashing into a deep snow pit.
The next moment, the Night King, riding the Hatchling Dragon, didn't even glance at Robert, and directly swooped towards Bran Stark and the others who were trying to escape!